Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Layers of steamy pick ups, rejoined a staggering crowd behind the bar, (who put that thought there?) I partitioned that wall for me to bump into, as if it weren't there just moments ago. A shifting maze, my mind, it's labyrinth ever changing, rearranging, scratching the interior of my scull, fingernails on chalk board grind stone against stone, making my teeth ache until I, I pull them one by one, like red angry children lined up for you. I offer them to you, without their fleshly clothes, roots showing as a forest of ivory trees, wearing true colors on bare bleached sleeve.
0
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
She's not me.
Layers of steamy pick ups, rejoined a staggering crowd behind the bar, (who put that thought there?) I partitioned that wall for me to bump into, as if it weren't there just moments ago. A shifting maze, my mind, it's labyrinth ever changing, rearranging, scratching the interior of my scull, fingernails on chalk board grind stone against stone, making my teeth ache until I, I pull them one by one, like red angry children lined up for you. I offer them to you, without their fleshly clothes, roots showing as a forest of ivory trees, wearing true colors on bare bleached sleeve.
corset
Written by
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem